


heart it races

by wearecities (falsetto)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsetto/pseuds/wearecities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can feel that relentlessness building in his chest. The same one that drove him to grab a pair of hair clippers at 3 in the morning, the same one that had him sitting in a tattoo parlor getting his four favourite people etched into his skin. He wants to do something reckless, something that he’s always wanted to do but has never had the guts to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart it races

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hopeletgo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeletgo/gifts).



> written for [ Clara's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeletgo) prompt at the [Liam/Louis comment ficathon](http://eachtoeach.livejournal.com/133002.html#): " _any kind of hurt/comfort in any variation of comforter vs hurtee; can be as schmoopy and/or porny as you so desire._ "
> 
> also inspired by [this awful gif set](http://wearecities.tumblr.com/post/50371294076/12-5) which i've stared at too many times for my own well being.
> 
> and again thank you x a million to [ shannon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dicktective/pseuds/nouams) for beta-ing and making it twice as long as i originally wanted it to be and for sitting in my google drive window like a tiny 30x30 guardian angel. and also letting me steal her title and parts of dialogue. :*

He sees it coming. It doesn’t make it hurt any less but the lack of surprise softens the blow. Has him frowning instead of crying, tucking himself into a corner of the sofa instead of throwing his suitcase against the wall. 

Their conversations got shorter, texts sent after longer intervals, and soon enough Liam picks up the phone in between one country and another and Danielle’s voice is soft when she starts talking.

The thing is the first time they, the boys -- _his_ boys -- were all so _good_ to him. They dealt with him when he locked himself away for days and then couldn’t stand to be in his flat anymore. When he ended up going out every night, drinking too much, and would find his way to one of their doorsteps or on the phone babbling until he passed out.

He hated it. Although the others will disagree, he was being selfish and that’s not something he ever does. He saw the strain it was putting on them, being in their position is stressful anyway, they all have their own baggage and with the added weight of a broken band member it was almost too much.

The phone line has been dead for almost half an hour but Liam’s still staring down at his phone, in a tucked away part of backstage. It’s lit up on the background, on a picture of him and Dani wrapped around each other, one of the few that isn’t plastered over google, and Liam wants to get rid of it. He wants to throw his phone on the floor and smash it into pieces until it’s all gone.

He can hear their voices before he sees them. Louis’s laughing at something Zayn’s shouting down the hall before he appears, belly down on a skateboard. He almost misses Liam in the corner next to an unused fire exit but then he backtracks, using his hands to push himself backwards down the hallway until he can look at Liam properly.

“Alright, Li?” He says and he’s smiling but there’s the slight edge of worry in his tone and his eyes flicker down to where Liam’s fingers have turned white with how hard they’re clutching his phone. But the thing is, he looks ridiculous, beanie askew on his head and basketball shorts that are definitely Liam’s riding up from where the harsh top of the skateboard has caught them. 

Liam doesn’t want to be the one to stop this mood, to have Louis frown and sit close to him and put his arm around him. At this moment, he just wants this Louis. Stupid and carefree and with the need to make fun of Liam without having to worry if Liam’s going to punch something or cry after.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says instead, locks his phone and pockets it. “Was just talking to my mum, she still hasn’t stopped crying.”

“God, _same_. You think two years of it would be enough, right? I’m scared I’m gonna go home and my mum will be a prune of her former self, it can’t be healthy.” Louis’s rocking himself back and forth on the skateboard and Liam laughs, pushes himself off the wall.

“Need a ride?” Louis asks and Liam shrugs, pushes Louis forward with a foot on his back. “C’mon, Niall and Zayn are trying to build a ramp out of boxes. I want to destroy it.” 

“ _Louis_ ,” Liam stresses because Louis can just be downright evil sometimes.

“All aboard the Tommo Express.” Louis grins back and doesn’t make any move to make space on the skateboard so Liam plonks himself down on Louis back.

They end up in a pile at the end of the hallway, skateboard on top of both of them. Having Louis laughing and pinching him almost makes it easy to forget about the conversation he’d had twenty minutes ago. _Almost_.

They were all there for him, generally, but it was Louis who knew what to do when Liam got too angry or too sad or if he blanked out for just a little too long. Maybe it was because Louis had his own long term relationship fall to pieces in his hands or he just knew Liam a little too well. He was there the night they marathoned a whole season of lost because there was no way Liam could sleep. And was there the day after, to poke and prod him until he had a shower, because ‘ _Li, I’m sorry but you stink and it’s putting me off my McMuffin_.’

But, this time around, he doesn’t want Louis to have to drop his whole life just because Liam’s a little upset. So, he just doesn’t tell him, which, in turn, means he doesn’t tell anyone else either. He can do this alone, he’s strong enough and there’s the distraction of being on a world tour. He’s a shitty liar, he knows he is, but the excuse of tour and exhaustion is enough when they’re all feeling it too. And it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. The whole breakup with Danielle thing.

It’s easy enough. He wrestles Zayn on stage, watches every pixar movie ever curled up with Harry, performs impromptu boy band covers with Niall, and wanders off into places they’re definitely not supposed to go with Louis. 

And maybe when he’s by himself in his hotel room he tosses and turns for an hour before he falls into a restless sleep, tucked up against a pillow in the middle of a double bed. But it’s easy, _easier_ than before. Until it isn’t.

\---

It takes three weeks. Three weeks before there’s a quiet knock on his hotel room door and then a louder, more persistent one. Liam figures it out straight away, he knows if one of them just wanted to hang out or annoy him they would have mentioned it earlier or pretend to be room service. This -- This is different.

He plasters on his overused smile, the one that hurts at the corners and only reaches the crinkles around his eyes when he forces them too. Hesitating a second before opening the door, he takes one breath and then two more before reaching for the handle.

Louis’s on the other side, phone clutched in one hand and hair standing on end. He looks tired and still worn around the edges from his cold, but most of all he looks angry.

“Liam,” Louis starts and his voice is steady, but he looks so vicious at the same time and Liam has to sit down, has to put something between them. He manages to take a step back until his legs knock against the bed and he’s curling up, in on himself, looking anywhere but at the doorway where Louis is still stood. 

Louis shuts the door behind him but doesn’t go to move any further, crosses and uncrosses his arms before rubbing a hand over his face. “Just -- Just tell me why I had to find out from El, of all people?”

And, _fuck_ , Liam never meant for it to happen like that. It stings, he can feel it right in the centre of his chest. Louis and Eleanor have been over for a long time, but having your ex-girlfriend relay information instead of your best friend must hurt even more. 

“Lou,” he says, and despite the fact that Louis is at least a few inches shorter than him, he feels so small right now, arms around his knees on a bed made for two people. “I didn’t-- I just. I. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

The anger seeps off Louis’ face within seconds and he steps closer, reaches forward and that’s enough for Liam. 

“She said,” he manages and it catches on a shaky exhale. “She said it would be different this time.”

“Oh, _Li._ ” And Liam hates it, knows its rare for Louis to let the softer side of him show to anyone but the people closest to him. In the last few months Liam has seen it far too many times.

He buries his face in his arms, tries to stop the lump that’s growing in his throat. The bed dips and there’s a light, tentative touch of a hand on his arm before it’s sliding up and around him, legs pressed against the side of his and the tickle of hair on his cheek as Louis rests his head on his shoulder. 

Louis pulls him tight against his side, fingers clutching at the tight muscle of his bicep where he’s holding himself together. He keeps quiet, but it’s enough for the lump in Liam’s throat to release and, although his eyes are shut, he can feel the hot warmth behind his eyelids. The only noise in the room is Louis’ heavy breathing, his nose still stuffed from being ill the past couple days, the buzzing of the mini bar in the corner and the slight snuffles Liam’s trying to keep inside.

He can feel that relentlessness building in his chest. The same one that drove him to grab a pair of hair clippers at 3 in the morning, the same one that had him sitting in a tattoo parlor getting his four favourite people etched into his skin. He wants to do something reckless, something that he’s always wanted to do but has never had the guts to. 

Letting his knees fall to the bed he tucks his feet under him instead, pulls away from Louis enough so that he can face him instead. His vision’s a little cloudy, cheeks a little wet and Louis’s looking at him with such _sympathy_ , eyebrows drawn up and a frown set on his lips and Liam doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want sympathy or ‘ _it will get better_ ’s.

He doesn’t really know what he wants, but he’s planting his hand on the bed to keep himself steady and pressing his lips against Louis’ seems likes the best idea right now. Louis’ hand tenses from where its still on his arm, clutching at the fabric of Liam’s t-shirt, but Liam’s shut his eyes tight again. If Louis wants to run away, then Liam doesn’t want to see it.

It feels like a lifetime before Louis’ lips are moving against his own, hand cupping his jaw and teeth catching. It’s not perfect, far from it. Liam’s still kind of crying and Louis tastes stale and slightly like cough medicine, but it’s everything Liam needs. 

He pushes Louis back against the bed, settles in between his legs and nips at Louis’ bottom lip, letting his mouth go slack so he can feel the brush of Louis’ tongue against his own. Their chests are pressed tight together, Liam’s arms are starting to shake from where he’s holding himself up over Louis, but there are hands gripping his hair and a leg hooked around his and he possibly never wants this to end.

Except it finishes just as quickly as it started, Louis stilling all of a sudden, as if he’s just realised what they’re doing and his hand splays over Liam’s chest, enough pressure for Liam to pull back. Liam lets his his eyes open then, slow and unsure. Louis doesn’t look angry or disappointed or regretful. He looks _hurt_ and that’s even worse. 

“Liam --” he cuts off and his eyes dart back to Liam’s lips, red and plump and shiny with spit. “I can’t. I can’t be your rebound.” There’s a beat and Liam tries not to scramble up, tries not to run away. He sits back on his haunches instead, ducks his head as Louis adds, “I can’t be second choice.”

Liam wants to yell and scream and tell him he’s wrong, but there’s that sting in his chest again, along with the lump in his throat. His eyes start burning and he’s pressing the heel of his hand against them until all he’s seeing is black and red. 

“I’m sorry,” He manages, chest heaving slightly and the memory of Louis’ lips against his is already starting to fade. 

“I know, Li,” Louis says and it’s almost a whisper. He expects him to leave then, but he’s pulling at Liam’s arms, rearranging them so that Liam’s head is tucked into the crook of Louis’ neck instead. “I know.” 

It’s silent, Louis running his fingertips up and down the notches of Liams spine. Liam doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have someone like Louis in his life, someone who understands him better than he does himself, and he’s possibly just fucked that all up. His breaths get easier to let out and the sting turns into a dull ache with every brush of Louis’ hand against his back. 

“You were never second choice,” Liam says, quiet, after a second. The only sign that Louis is listening is the way his hand pauses for the tiniest millisecond. “You will never be second choice. You’re kind of. You’re everything, Lou. From the start. I think I’ve always known, just.” He loved Danielle, he did but it’s nothing compared to the -- to the _thing_ he has with Louis. “ _Everything_ , Lou.” 

There’s more to say but it’s hard to get out when his head is in a frenzy and his tongue is sticking to the top of his mouth.

A minute passes and then another 10 but Louis doesn’t reply. Just keeps running the hand down up and down his back. Liam falls asleep knowing that Louis wont be there in the morning.

\---

They haven’t talked the whole day, Louis busying himself so much that Liam doesn’t see him for longer than a glance, until they’re all doing their pre-show ritual and then they’re thrust on stage. The boys are all wearing matching t-shirts and it makes it a little easier to fake a smile, push the others around like he usually would whilst singing songs about love and heartbreak. 

He’s had three weeks of pretending, he can manage a few more days.

It’s so close to the end of the show and Liam just wants to lock himself away again, crawl into bed and never leave. Maybe shave his head again, get another tattoo. 

They reach Harry’s solo and Liam’s stepping into his position next to Louis. They’ve interacted during the show but it’s been stilted, slightly off, so he keeps his eyes on the crowd and the distance between them just enough. But, all too soon, there’s a brush of skin against his arm and then Louis’s threading his arm through the space next to the inside of his elbow. 

Liam glances down at their arms and then sneaks a glance at Louis’s face but he’s already looking at the crowd, smiling like it’s just one of their jokes. Liam knows how he must look right now, dumbfounded and shocked. Louis’s pulling away within seconds, the only indication that this was something _different_ , not the usual kind of touches they have on stage, is the hand lingering on his arm as he slips away.

And then Louis’s stepping away completely, he’s saying something and he’s smiling but Liam can’t make it out over the buzzing in his ears. Liam laughs along anyway, feeling slightly hysterical. He has to step behind Harry to attempt to hide his shaking hands and put that extra bit of distance between them which he’ll need until they can get somewhere private, somewhere to figure out what they are.

Louis is still smiling and laughing and Liam is so confused and then he’s not. Instead, he’s filling up with anger and they’re on stage in front of tens of thousands of people and Liam wants nothing more than to scream.

“What the fuck, Lou?” He’s shouting before he can even stop himself and it must’ve been louder than he expected because Zayn and Niall are glancing over. 

Louis doesn’t even bat an eye, carries on grinning at Liam like this is the funniest thing in world and he reaches forward to twist his nipple. He’s so into old habits that his hands is darting before he can even realise, forcing the hand away and his brows furrow. He’s _seething_ now.

Going into autopilot, he runs off to his side of the stage just as Harry’s solo ends, singing a little louder and gripping his microphone a little tighter. The crowd screams and Liam catches Louis’ eye across the stage just as all the confetti starts to fall. 

\---

They’re silent on the ride back to the hotel. With all the manicness backstage Liam had just grabbed his stuff and climbed inside the van, hidden himself in the back row of seats. Predictably, Louis had sat up front, despite the fact that his self proclaimed seat is the empty one next to Liam. 

Louis’s out of the van before Liam can even stand up, pushing himself through the crowd and into the hotel. Liam leaves his stuff, figures Paul will take care of it, and takes off after him. He’s a good few steps behind Louis and the lift doors are sliding closed just as he makes it into the lobby. Glancing around slightly frantically he rushes towards the stairs, thankful that they’re only on the second floor as he takes the steps two at a time.

Just as Liam reaches the door, he catches sight of Louis’ silhouette when he disappears into his room, and Liam stops the door from closing with his foot. He forces himself through and it slams shut behind them.

“What the hell was that all about?” Liam gets out through gritted teeth and Louis doesn’t look over from where he’s bent over his suitcase, pulling out bedclothes.

“The reason,” Louis starts and his voice is so calm and Liam wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “The reason you didn’t tell me was because you wanted everything to be normal, right? So I’m acting normal.” 

“You’re -- what?” Liam voice is still loud but the edge to it has gone. “You call this normal? Didn’t you hear _anything_ I said last night?” Louis drops the clothes on his bed, finally turns to face Liam, and he fidgets for a second before wrapping his arms around himself.

“I did,” he says slowly. “You were upset, you’re going through a lot right now. It’s understandable.”

“What?” Liam’s so utterly confused again, his hands still balled into fists. “What’s understandable?” 

“Saying shit you don’t mean, heat of the moment and all that.” And Louis’ laughing again, but it’s bitter and cracked around the edges and _fuck_. It was never meant to go this way, in all the ways that Liam had told Louis in his head this was never one of the scenarios and it’s far worse than anything he could think up.

“You know I love you, Li. I do. I’ll be there for you all you need but -- But not like that.” He pauses for a second and then his expression is changing, it’s the one he’d given him last night. “You can’t just use me the day your girlfriend breaks up with you.” 

“You really think that? You really think I would do that? I may be single now but I’m the same fucking person, Lou.” Liam clenches his fists again, tries to steady himself on his feet. “We’ve been over for,” He pauses, tries to figure it out in his head and, shit, he didn’t realise it’s been that long. “Nearly a month now.” 

“What?” Louis’ voice is small, soft, and he still has his arms wrapped around himself. Liam wants nothing more than to pull him in, thread his fingers through his hair and tangle the two of them together, but he’s still on the edge of anger.

“And, even it was a day or an hour or _five minutes_ later, you, of all people, should know I would _never_ use you like that.” Louis jerks back as if the words have just hit him and he’s looking up at Liam wide-eyed, a frown set on his face. 

It’s as if something shifts between them. Liam finally lets the anger seep out of him, because he understands now, the way Louis was acting isn’t something Liam’s seen since back in the X-Factor days. Louis was scared. 

And then Louis’s taking a step forward, and then another and then two more before they’re toe to toe and he’s pressing up, curling his arms around Liam’s neck and burying his face just where Liam’s collarbone juts out. Liam knows this will be the apology he gets, Louis clutching at him, holding on like he’s an anchor, so he just winds his own arms around Louis’ back, settles his hands on the dip of his waist. 

There’s the familiar silence between them again, Liam’s thumb brushing along the small of Louis’ back, but then Louis’s pulling away slightly and his voice is a little wet when he lets out a breathy laugh.

“I seem to have forgotten how much of a gentleman you are.” This -- This is normal. Not the strange stiltedness between them on stage or moments in the past month when Liam wasn’t holding himself together as well as he thought he was.

“I know, babe.” Liam’s smile starts with a quirk at the corner of his mouth but soon he’s pushing up his cheeks and crinkling his eyes. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 

Louis huffs, but his smile is almost as blinding as Liam’s, and he pushes forward again, has Liam stumbling back until his legs collide with the edge of a desk. 

“Enough talking now, yeah?” Louis says and he doesn’t really give Liam the option of disagreeing before he’s rising up on his tiptoes and brushing their lips together.

This time is much closer to perfection. There’s a satisfying lack of tears and the only teeth involved is the sharp tug of Louis’s as he nips at the swell of Liam’s bottom lip.

It starts off slow, Liam still brushing his hand down the curve of Louis’ back, but then Liam’s ducking his head so that Louis doesn’t have to lean up as much and can focus on thumbing at the curve of Liam’s jaw, one hand sliding up into the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

Liam lets Louis take all control at first, lets himself be pushed back and his t-shirt be tugged out of place. But then the edge of the desk is digging in a little too hard and all the pent up frustration from the last few weeks -- few hours, in fact -- is leaving him right now. 

He hooks his thumbs through the loops of Louis’s jeans, uses them to steer Louis back until the back of his knees catch on the bed and he’s falling gracelessly onto it. Louis pushes his hair out of his fair, all traces of product from the show gone, and he’s leaning up on his elbows. It takes Liam a second, a second in which he takes in the line of Louis’s body spread out and waiting.

There’s a single flash of something uncertain on Louis’s face, which has Liam clambering onto the bed, knees either side of Louis’ hips. He leans down, brushes a kiss to his cheek before he pulls backs slightly.

“I’m not taking advantage of you.” He states it as a fact but it’s more a question. Louis catches on, his expression changing, and he leans up a little further to return the brush of lips to Liam’s cheek.

“No you’re not,” Louis agrees and his lips catch on the stubble across Liam’s jaw. 

Liam leans down further, nosing at the crook of Louis’ neck and places a kiss there too, following it with a graze of his teeth and a flicker of tongue. “I like you. A lot, in fact,” He continues and Louis lets out a quiet moan as Liam properly latches on, sucking a bruise into the skin. He pulls back again, smiles a little at his handiwork. “I don’t think I’ve said that yet.” 

“You’re alright,” Louis chokes out after a second, because Liam’s moving further down, mouthing at the words across Louis’ collarbone before moving on. 

“And you’re not a rebound,” He says this between pushing Louis’ t-shirt up and pressing kisses to the soft skin of Louis’ belly. He’s pretty sure he could stay here for hours, see how many lovebites Louis can take before he’s pleading and writhing underneath him, but Louis obviously has other ideas with the way he’s clutching at Liam’s shoulders. 

“For fuck’s sake, Liam,” Louis growls, but it’s not nearly as effective when he’s squirming against the sheets. “Just touch my dick already.” 

The jeans Louis is wearing are ridiculously tight and even through the thick fabric Liam can make out the line of Louis’ cock and he runs his thumb along it. Louis tips his hips into it and Liam presses down with his palm. 

With all that’s happened in the past 24 hours, Liam’s not ready to keep Louis, or himself, waiting. He’s leaning back up over Louis, pulling his t-shirt off in one swift movement and Louis seems to get the picture because he’s sitting up and getting rid of his own.

He moves to go back to his position from before but Louis’s clutching at his arm, pulling Liam against his chest and kissing him, wet and sloppy and just on the edge of violent. But Liam’s not going lessen it because the noises Louis’s making are obscene. He can feel him thickening in his boxers, straining against the zip of his jeans, and he drops beside Louis before his arms give way. 

Louis presses even closer, turns onto his side so he can hook his leg through Liam’s. He’s all but clutching at Liam’s face when Liam finally dips his fingers under the waistband of Louis’ jeans -- a warning -- before he’s unbuttoning them, pulling the zip down as quick as possible. He manages to tug them halfway down Louis’ ass before they have to pull away from each other, Louis pulling them down completely.

The way his briefs are tented is unfairly indecent, a faint wetness staining the front, but he doesn’t get to look for long before Louis’ getting rid of them too.

“Fuck, Lou.” His voice is hoarse and he presses up against Louis’ side, nuzzles at his hair and lets his mouth rest open and hot on the curve of Louis’s ear. “You look so good.” He breathes out because Louis does, he looks so fucking good, all tanned skin and his cock thick and hard resting against his belly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Louis rushes out, turns back onto his side so he can catch Liam’s lips with his again, and tug at his belt loops. “C’mon.” 

There’s no awkward moment, not when Liam finally rids himself of his trousers and then his boxers, no moment where they stare at each other for a beat too long, long enough to actually contemplate what they’re doing. Instead, Louis crawls on top of Liam as soon as he gets the chance, pushes him back onto the bed and presses his face into Liam’s neck, nibbling and biting. Gives Liam a bruise to match his own.

Liam lets out a groan, splaying a palm over Louis’ bum and digging his fingertips into the cleft of his ass. Louis practically yelps against Liam’s collarbone, shifting with it so that their hips align and Liam can feel the moment their cocks slide together. It’s there again as Louis catches on, starts to rock against Liam as he rests his forehead on his shoulder, mouth open and panting against Liam’s skin.

“Shit,” Liam manages, tries to rock his hips up to match Louis’ rhythm but Louis just presses down in turn, tries to take charge. The muscles in Louis’ ass are flexing and tightening under his palm and, _fuck_ , Liam wishes he could see it, the way Louis is circling his hips so effortlessly must look incredible.

“Li,” Louis chokes out and Liam can feel the warmth building in the pit of his stomach, knows he’s not going to last much longer. “Li, _Liam_. Fuck. I’m close.” 

“Yeah, lemme just --” And then he’s reaching down and Louis’s sitting up slightly so that he can watch the way Liam’s hand just about manages to encircle both of them. He thumbs at Louis’ head, earning a quiet moan of his name, before he’s tightening the ring of his fingers and stroking down when Louis thrusts up. 

Louis leans back down, frames Liam’s head with his arms as he holds himself up on his elbows and crushes their mouths together. It’s probably a little embarrassing, how long it takes after that, but Louis’ thrusts are becoming less co-ordinated and Liam can barely manage to focus on kissing back, just lets Louis lick into his mouth and bite at his lips. 

And then Louis’ hips stutter, fingers tightening in Liam’s hair and he’s moaning Liam’s name, straight into his mouth, as he comes. Louis’s thighs are clutching at his sides and he’s nosing at Liam’s neck, almost chanting, “c’mon, Li. Come for me.” 

Liam’s toes curl against the duvet and he attempts to arch off the bed but with Louis’s steady weight holding him down he only manages to press their hips tighter together. Louis kisses him through it, runs a hand through Liam’s hair as he strokes himself.

It takes more than a few seconds for Liam to catch his breath and Louis hasn’t moved from his position on top of him, he’s just slumped down instead, head tucked against Liam’s neck. He’ll move in a second, once his legs stop shaking and air is easier to breathe in. And then maybe him and Louis will actually talk about it, like proper adults and not in banter.

But, for now, he just wraps himself tighter around Louis, presses a kiss to his sweaty forehead and listens to Louis’ breathing. It’s only quiet for a brief moment before Louis giggles, actually giggles when they’re both naked and covered in come and sweat and Liam can’t help but laugh too, fumbling around next to him so that he can intertwine their fingers.

Louis leans up, face so close to Liam’s, and looks him dead in the eye. He looks happy and sated and just on the edge of embarrassment. 

“Everything, yeah?” Louis says and Liam’s heart is clenching in his chest which would be uncomfortable if it didn’t make him so happy. He doesn’t reply, doesn’t need to at this point, just leans up a little bit to close the space between them.


End file.
